


Throb

by xmjcx



Series: Bethyl Smut Week [4]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: AU, Bar Meeting, Bethyl Smut Week, F/M, drunk, non-ZA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 03:05:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5692222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xmjcx/pseuds/xmjcx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bethyl Smut Week, Day Four; 'Throb'. Non ZA/AU. Merle is a pain in Daryl's ass, and Beth Greene is a welcoming sight. Rated M.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Throb

His place is an absolute shit tip, and Merle is a pain in his fucking ass, and absolutely none of the crap going on in his boring, messed up life is new or unfamiliar at all.  
After a couple of minutes of lying on his back and staring straight up at the ceiling of his bedroom, Daryl forces himself to get out his double bed and start getting ready for another day at work. After having a piss and brushing his teeth, he makes his way straight across the hall and into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes with the balls of his palms as he does so.  
  
There aren't as many bottles spilled out across the space of his apartment as he had originally thought that there would be after two nights of leaving Merle to do whatever he wanted whilst he picked up a couple of hours overtime at the garage, and in all honesty, it's not going to take him all that long to tidy the place up - probably five minutes, give or take.  
  
But still. It's not quite the point.  
  
'Cause this might be his apartment, yeah, and it might be his name on the lease - just his name, for the record, not anybody else's name (especially not Merle's) - but is sure as hell ain't his mess; and the last time that he checked, he was a mechanic, not a fucking maid.  
  
Mumbling under his breath as he grabs two pieces of bread and shoves them straight into the toaster, he turns his head over his shoulder to find that he can't help but glare over at the used plate that has been left next to a half-filled glass of soda on the middle of his kitchen table. The sink is literally not even ten feet away from the three seater wooden table, and yet Merle still happened to be too fucking lazy to just get off his ass and dunk the plate into the wash bowl - hell, heaven forbid that he actually rinsed the shit off of it.  
  
That would be the day.  
  
The door to the fridge slams shut behind him once he's grabbed for the butter, and Daryl doesn't even bat an eyelid at the sound of Merle's loud snores echoing down the hallway from where he is sleeping on the leather couch in the living room. As far as Daryl is concerned, he has better things to do than babysit a grown man - for example, get to work on time and earn some money to keep surviving - but once he is done buttering his toast, he reaches for one of the large plastic bags that he keeps to line up the trash can with and, whilst he eats, begins to walk around the apartment in search of empty beer cans and bottles.  
  
As he walks past Merle - who is very obviously passed out on the couch - he can't help but feel tempted by an overwhelming urge to just smack him over the head with the half-filled bag; or better yet, to empty the whole contents of the bag all over his sleeping form. Daryl thinks that it sure as hell would be funny to see a hungover Merle react to that, because it sure as hell is what he deserves for leaving his younger brother's usually clean and tidy place like this twenty four seven; but just as his lips twitch upwards in the hint of a smirk, they fall down once again - this time, leaving a frown on his face.  
  
Because looking at Merle now and watching the way that dribble is falling out of his mouth and trickling down the arm of his couch, Daryl thinks to himself that Merle is honest to god that lit that he probably wouldn't even stir as the heavy bottles poured all over his body.  
  
With a heavy sigh, Daryl shakes his head and shoves the last of his toast into his mouth as he heads back in the direction of the kitchen, checking around him quickly to make sure that he didn't miss any crap off any of the floors or the counter tops. Once he's tipped the mouldy soda down the drain and has dunked both the glass and the plate into a steaming hot bowl of water and washing up liquid, Daryl sets off to work; the plastic bag of bottles slung over his shoulder and ready to be chucked into the recycling as soon as he reaches the huge trash cans at the bottom of the street.

  
  
  


It's Friday night, and Merle is still a pain in his ass, but Daryl still ends up joining his older brother for a few beers down at The Shack anyway.  
  
Working weekends isn't something that would bother Daryl in the slightest, and yet he's still ended up with a job where he's only required to work Monday to Friday (unless it's a particularly busy week at the garage, and then he can get some extra hours in on double pay). One of the most irritating things about Merle is that as much as he is a drunken fool, the man still ain't stupid enough to not know which days during the week his little brother works and which days he gets off, and almost as soon as he walked through the door, Merle was whining at him to get out like some sort of little kid moaning at his pa to play ball with him.  
  
And since he doesn't have any real excuse since he doesn't have work tomorrow, Merle eventually ends up talking him into coming down to the bar - convinces him that he'll actually have a good time - and the two of them end up having a few drinks and playing a couple of games of pool whilst the place is still pretty quiet. They live in a small town and there's only three bars, so Daryl knows that the place will start getting a bit more crowded in a couple of hours, but for now there's not too many people around, and the youngest Dixon brother finds that Merle was right: he is enjoying himself.  
  
For once.  
  
They have both had a couple of beers at this point, but Merle isn't quite drunk - yet - so he's not being too much of an asshole. Not by Daryl's standards, anyway; and this here is the side of his big brother that he actually likes, the side that he actually enjoys being around, the side that he wishes he was around more often.  
  
This is the way that things used to be between them when they were both a lot younger, and it's times like these - times when he is reminded of how they used to be, when he is reminded of just how bad his brother has become now - when Daryl thinks that he actually might miss being younger.  
  
(For once.)

 

As predicted, The Shack starts getting busy around eleven o'clock, and Daryl was actually kind of relieved when some woman who he can't stand the sight of - Dawn, he thinks that she's called, although he's not entirely sure - makes her way over towards Merle and starts sucking his face in all sorts of disgusting ways. It's a little bit awkward, just standing at the side of them, but Daryl doesn't mind waiting around too much.  
  
Well, that was until he saw the brunette's hands snake underneath his brother's pants, and that was enough to send him straight back home.  
  
But as Daryl downs the last of his beer and double checks that his wallet and his cell phone are still located in the back pocket of his jeans, he catches a flash of blonde moving through the entrance way. His whole body stiffens as he stares directly over at her, and fuck, every guy in here is probably thinking the exact same thing about her, but she has to be the prettiest thing that he has ever seen in his whole entire life.  
  
The blonde is wearing a little green dress and is walking hand-in-hand with another girl, but he doesn't even allow himself the chance to glance over at who it is that she's walking with. He's established that it ain't a guy, and the way that they're holding hands doesn't look intimate enough to suggest that they're into each other like that, so who knows - maybe he could be in with a shot.  
  
Or, he could be a lot drunker than he originally thought.

 

It's difficult to hear anything at all when the music in the place is throbbing so loudly in his ears, but he eventually plucked up the courage to stroll over as casually as he possibly could towards the bar - just to order himself another drink, of course - and the little blonde thing just so happened to be perched on a stool right next to where he ended up standing. Whilst he was waiting to get served, he could feel her looking up at him, and he braved making eye contact with her just for one second.  
  
But then that one second turned into a few, and now she has introduced herself to him and told him that her name is Beth (he's pretty sure that's her name, anyway, and he doesn't know what else she could have been called that sounds anything similar) and that it was her twenty first birthday yesterday so she's out celebrating it, and she doesn't have a clue about what to order.  
  
Beth is even prettier now that he is actually up close and personal with her, and since the bar is incredibly crowded - it's getting closer to midnight, and the people just seem to keep on coming through - it gives him an excuse to stand that little bit closer to her than he normally would stand to someone, but she doesn't seem to mind very much.  
  
In fact, if the smile on her face was anything to go off when their arms brushed against one another's, then Daryl would actually say that she likes it.  
  
In reality, he's kind of glad that he had already had a few drinks with Merle before, because he's not feeling anywhere near as nervous as he knows he usually would be, being this close to someone like her. Beth is way out of his league and she has to know it, too; and yet here she is, smiling up at him with her big, blue eyes practically twinkling as he hands her a shot.  
  
The expression on her face is one of curiosity as she inhales the clear liquid before furrowing her brows, the frown on her face demonstrating her disgust just from the scent of the strong drink. The blonde opens her mouth to protest - and fuck, that pink lipstick looks really, really good on her lips - but Daryl just shakes his head and cuts her off, leaning down so that he can speak directly into her ear so that he's sure that she can hear him.  
  
"S'not that bad," he says to her, smirking as he speaks.  
  
He has a shot glass of Moonshine himself, to be fair, and she waits for him to down his in one before she does the same. Her head tilts back and then she slams the tiny shot glass down against the bar top, and to be perfectly honest, Daryl is actually pretty impressed that Beth has swallowed it all down.  
  
After giving her a second to compose herself from the bitter tasting liquid, Daryl cocks a brow at her and offers her half a smile. "Good?" he asks, and the giggle that escapes her lips is literally enough to floor him right then and there.

  


Around an hour or so later, the two of them end up jumping out of a cab outside of his apartment block; and after throwing the driver a twenty dollar bill and then helping Beth walk towards the railings of the metal staircase that leads up to his floor, Daryl figures to himself that he doesn't really want to watch her struggle to get up these. When they were in The Shack, she seemed more than capable of walking in those damned high shoes, but now that she's a little tipsy, it seems like all of the lessons on balance have gone out of the window.  
  
So, without hesitating any longer, Daryl just gives in to his instinct and hauls the skinny blonde up into his arms with ease.  
  
It's obvious that she is taken aback by the move because she shrieks loudly into the chilly air of the night and her slender arms wrap tightly around his neck in a move that is guided by panic and worry, but she quickly settles in to his hold as he carries her up the stairs, and then she is looking at him with that bright smile and twinkling eyes. A little laugh escapes her lips when Daryl struggles to get his front door key out of the back pocket of his jeans whilst she's nestled so comfortably in his arms - so snug, like it's where she actually belongs - and he smirks along with her, but he finally manages to get the door open in the end.  
  
  
  
In reality, Daryl knew where this was going the second that she introduced herself to him - hell, he thinks that she knew the same thing, too - but he definitely didn't expect it to happen almost immediately after he placed the small slip of a blonde onto the laminate flooring of his apartment.  
  
Within seconds, she is on him; her pale arms wrapping around his neck again, only this time her hands bury themselves in the hair at the back of his head and her tongue pushes its way into his mouth, her body pressing tightly up against his as she effectively pins him in the entranceway of the apartment.  
  
Admittedly, it does take him a beat or two to catch up with the fast, needy pace that she has set for them both; but then Daryl is kissing her back with an equal amount of passion and intensity, and he has to kick the front door to a close so that his hands can instead busy themselves by snaking around her tiny, tiny waist and then so that they can squeeze and tug and grab at the flesh of her ass through the green dress that she is wearing. Before Daryl can even begin to worry about whether or not he is being a little too rough with her, Beth is moaning loudly into his mouth and is gasping words like _don't stop_ and hell, if she don't want him to, then he sure as hell ain't gonna.  
  
All consideration that Daryl usually has for his neighbours disappears as he stumbles noisily a little further down the hallway with Beth; and his cock is throbbing almost painfully in his jeans as he pins her up against one of the cream walls, but he fights and fights against the thought of seeking out his own release so that he can hoist her up in his arms.  
  
This time, Beth is a little more prepared for him to lift her up, and her legs snap around his waist like it's the most natural thing in the world - like the two of them have been dancing this way with one another for fucking years, not just minutes - and the blonde wastes absolutely no time in bucking her hips against him, effectively grinding herself against him.  
  
At the feel of her moving so provocatively underneath him, Daryl can't help but roll and push and grind himself right back with the same rhythm that she has set, and soon the pair of them are gasping and moaning and panting into the kiss. His arms are wrapped underneath her thighs and are grabbing at her ass, but his hands are wandering beneath her dress now, too, and -  
  
\- and _fuck_ , his hands have only brushed against the centre of her lace panties and he can already tell that she is absolutely _soaked_.  
  
He must have said the words out loud, because Beth is nodding her head quickly as she murmurs back at him; words like _yes_ and _all for you_ and _Daryl, I want you, please_.  
  
And even if he didn't want to fuck her right now against the wall of his hallway (because he does - oh _god_ , he really, really does), Daryl recalls that it was her twenty first birthday yesterday, and he's definitely not going to go and turn down a request from the birthday girl.  
  
Within seconds, his belt is unbuckled and his fly is undone and his jeans are pooling around his ankles along with his boxer shorts. His cock springs free and slaps the bottom of her ass, just around her panties whilst Daryl battles to hoist the little green dress a little further up her hips. The material is tight, but Beth helps him out with it and then gasps into his mouth as his throbbing dick rubs against her ass again.  
  
"Can't wait any longer, girl," Daryl grunts into her mouth, and Beth fucking whimpers as he uses one of his hands to slide her panties to the side, exposing her dripping cunt to him. "Gotta have you."  
  
More whimpers come from the back of her throat as Beth eagerly nods her head up and down, her teeth grazing his earlobe as she clings tightly to the muscles of his arms, her nails digging in to the skin there. " _Yes_ ," she purrs down his ear before she pulls the bottom of it into her mouth, and Daryl shudders slightly at the action before he lines himself up at her entrance.  
  
He sure as hell ain't soft or gentle - how the fuck can anyone expect him to be when she has worked him up the way that she has, when she is pinned against his wall with her pussy absolutely dripping, all for him? - as he thrusts into her in one movement, and Beth's head falls back against the wall with a loud thud.  
  
"You alright?" he murmurs into her neck as he tries to compose himself, thinking about anything other than how tight and how hot and how fucking wet she is around his cock. He has never felt anything like her before, and god knows that he never wants to feel anything that isn't her ever again, either.  
  
All that Beth does is nod her head up and down, and then Daryl pulls his head away from the crook of her neck so that he can look up into her clouded eyes. Without waiting another minute longer, he begins to move his throbbing cock inside of her; his movements slow and steady at first, but quickly becoming more and more frantic as he thrusts into her with power and speed.  
  
An assortment of words tumble from his lips, and more come from her own, too, and Daryl can't imagine anything more perfect than this. The two of them didn't even make it to the bed, and yet this is the best night that he has had with anyone, ever.  
  
A familiar ache settles itself within his balls, and Daryl is determined to make sure that she comes before he does, so he uses one of his fingers that has been busy holding back the material of her panties so that it doesn't get in the way and uses it to draw quick, tight and firm circles around the bud of her clit. The fact that she is absolutely soaking around his cock makes it so much easier for him to gather up the moisture of herself to use to rub around the swollen bundle of nerves with, and he immediately begins to feel the effects of his actions as her legs tremble around his waist.  
  
Groaning, Daryl speeds up his thrusts, his eyes drifting to a close as he hits an incredibly deep spot within her. "Fuck, Beth," he hisses, his hands grabbing tightly into her ass in a similar manner to the way that hers are grabbing tightly into his biceps. The sounds that are falling out of her mouth combined with the erratic way her body is moving tells him that she's close, and Daryl doesn't hold back as he speeds up the patterns that he's drawing over her clit. "You gonna cum for me, girl? _Huh_?"  
  
He doesn't know how many times he asks her that question, but he repeats it aggressively down her ear for a good thirty seconds or so before she clenches her tight walls and tenses her whole body around him. As her abdominal muscles spasm in time with her orgasm, Daryl thrusts himself inside of her two more times before he comes along with her with a loud roar, her tight, hot walls milking him for all that he is worth as she continues to convulse around his throbbing cock.  
  
It's a stupid move, really; especially considering the fact that he doesn't even know this girl, doesn't even know whether or not she's on the pill, doesn't even know whether he should have pulled out - and hell, he really should have used a condom, given all the shit he throws to Merle about using 'em.  
  
But as he falls to a heap on the cool floor of his apartment with her wrapped up in his strong arms - her body feeling so small and fragile against him - the pair of them panting and sweaty and sticky with each other's liquids, he decides that he really, really does not give a fuck about anything else.  
  
Hell, he's just fucked Beth Greene against the wall of his apartment - why would he give a shit about anything else?

 

It's around ten minutes later that the two of them decide to move, and even then, it is only so that they can get changed and use the bathroom before bed. Daryl's fucked girls here before, sure, but none of them have ever stayed the night before - especially not in his bed, either. But he actually feels like with Beth, things are different. With Beth, he wants her to stick around - and not necessarily just for the sex.  
  
Maybe it's just the booze talking, though.  
  
(Or maybe it's really, really not.)  
  
  
  
Once she has snuggled up to him underneath the covers wearing one of his shirts - that absolutely drowns her tiny frame - and he has turned out the light, Daryl realises that he forgot to leave the door on the latch so that his brother can get back in whenever he decides to come back and collapse in a drunken heap on the couch. There's a part of him that thinks that he should go and open the door - just so that Merle doesn't moan - but as he glances down at the pretty girl who is lay comfortably with her head on his chest and her arms wrapped around his waist, he decides that he isn't moving anywhere.  
  
Not tonight. Not even for Merle.  
  
  
  
His brother is a pain in his ass, anyway. Always has been, always will be.


End file.
